


The Sound of the Soul

by Werecakes



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fili and Kili would totally look at Gimli like a little brother, Frerin honestly loves his nephews and will crack some skulls if he found anyone teasing them, Gen, He loves his family, Honest, Sorry if I hurt your feels with this, Thorin is really a sweetheart, Thorin isn't a bad guy, Thrain would have been a great grandpa, WTF PJ you totally took the Durin Feels from us, big brothers love their little sister, the line of Durin begin damn cuties, they are happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 17:29:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2660432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werecakes/pseuds/Werecakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin never liked silence, it always meant trouble, but more so he never had much of it while growing up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sound of the Soul

**Author's Note:**

  * For [codenamehexx](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=codenamehexx).



Silence was something Thorin Oakenshield could never become accustomed to. When he first drew breath he heard his own screams as cold bit into his tiny body. There was noise of people cleaning him; the splashing of water, the rumpling of fine cloth, followed by the warmth of arms and the devoted cooing of his mother when he was placed into her arms. There was no silence beyond sleep after that.

His mother sang to him, his father would praise his healthy son, dwarves came and went to see him in his crib all amazed over the new arrival. This clamor did not die away as time went. He grabbed at pages as his mother read to him. He teethed on cold, blunt metals while his father boasted over the toughness of his son. When he took his first steps he was nearly deafened by the joyful cries from his parents and grandparents. He learned to read by sounding every thing out. And at night, in a mountain full of working dwarves he learned to fall asleep to the chimes of hammers ringing upon hot metals creating something grand for the next day.

Just when he thought things would change, as things began to become less noisy but not quite silent, there was news he would become a big brother. This delighted Thorin as there was no children for him to play with. Thrain had to explain that his new sibling would need time to grow and Thorin should enjoy the company of his cousins. But Dwalin teased him and Balin kept shoving him. He didn't like his cousins. Instead he asked his mother almost every day if the baby would come that very night. He stubbornly insisted in helping his parents with the new nursery until he was dropped into Fundin's lap for his distant uncle to keep him out of the way. Thorin threw his fits, got picked on by his cousins before he punched them both in the nose, then they were crying and he felt better. After that he got along with them. Even invited them to see his new baby brother when Frerin was born, which was very gracious of him.

He loved his baby brother, stinky smell, drooling mouth and all. So started back up all the commotion of a new baby. Everyone was happy and Thorin got to see what it had been like when he was at that age. All the proud boasting, men clapping other men on the back congratulating his father. Women fawned over Frerin and the tired mother that produced him. Thorin didn't like them all over crowding his little brother and would tell them all off. Then the attention would shift to him on about how good of an older brother he was. 

At night Frerin would cry and Thorin would be at his crib before their mother. She would quiet him by getting rid of the smell or putting his mouth to her breast, but some times that wasn't enough and Thorin would climb into the crib with his brother holding the soft baby close and telling him stories that he had heard from the different adults.

As Frerin grew Thorin saw it his duty to teach him how to read and write. He was even bossy enough to lecture a toddler how to teethe properly, after all he was a hopeless baby and only had his big brother to rely on, so Thorin's young mind reasoned. When Frerin started to get a handle of everything Dwalin teased him for his golden hair, after all only elves were blond and beardless. Frerin cried and Dwalin got a tooth knocked out. 

Dwalin learned not to tease anymore.

When Thorin got his first heavy stubble he found out that he was going to have another sibling. Frerin was very excited as he sucked his thumb and held Thorin's hand. Each day was filled with the brothers relentlessly hounding the adults and once again Thorin was plopped into Fundin's begrudging care. The dwarf was increasing in age rapidly by four children screaming and playing in mock battles. He was thankful when Dis was born, the little sister tore all attention the brothers had for anything else and focused it solely on her.

She was defenseless.

She was a baby.

She was a girl.

Erebor had never seen over protective brothers at such tender ages and one barely had his baby fluff on his chin.

As they grew, the noises continued. Praises of Thorin's learning curb, Frerin's adeptness and Dis' growing beauty. Dis found her trade of silver smithing before Thorin settled in the forges. Frerin preferred getting his hands on marble and wood, sculpting them to his design. They all were good at playing instruments; Dis upon her drum, singing better than a elf, Frerin on his fiddle and Thorin with his harp.

This part of his life was a symphony of bliss that was broken with the crashing crassendo of Smaug. Afterwards there was silence.

Terrible silence that felt like a muted wail of sorrow.

Frerin was the first to start breathing life back into them. With his craftsmanship he helped build homes, taught and sought counsel with all around him for what they thought should happen to help their kind. He pushed and pulled at Thorin, cradled and sung to Dis, he cared and touched Thror and Thrain's broken spirits. It was him that composed the song of the "Misty Mountains", never once doubting they would reclaim the home he once knew. To Thorin this was a gentle noise like the tender chirp of the first spring robin. He was happy that Dis joined in the twittering, followed by others and even Thorin joined after a time, singing his raven's song.

Then Moria stripped him of all that was good and light. There was nothing but silence after as he laid on the blood soaked ground beside his fallen brother. Muttering stories to ears that could no longer hear just as he once had when Frerin was a babe and they were in his cradle. He was deaf to the screaming wails of his sister, her young warrior body coated in black orc blood and the red from her own wounds. 

They had lost everyone but each other.

It was quiet from then on. 

He didn't know how many years had passed with no sound. He was numb with no life and a glance to his sister would mirror his own reflection. One day they had been working when a handsome dwarf, blond and cheery came in. It only took the rare blond hair to make Thorin hear his heart beat again, reminded of his dear brother. He watched the dwarf day after day come in just to talk with Dis, trying hard to get her to react to him. But she was a broken drum with no heart to beat.

Thorin went through what little they had left of their family's things. They had to sell so much but a few objects they refused to part with, such as hair beads from their grandfather, Thrain's belt and Frerin's carving knife. Thorin took the knife and hummed the song his brother had composed. Slowly, as he worked, allowing the spirit of his brother guide his hands, sound returned to him. He talked to Frerin and Thror's spirits as he stretched the leather. Told them of how fine of a woman Dis had grown into as he tied everything into place. She was a Durin in beauty, inelegance, skill, and in temperament. He allowed himself to hear once more and hope for a future. Then he gifted his drum to his sister making sure she saw Frerin's carving knife to show that it was not only he that had made it. 

She had cried and Thorin held her close.

Soon she was properly courting, much to the threats that Thorin gave about the honored dead dragging her intended into Mahal's Forge and throwing him into the flames and they best not forget it because Dis should know better. Thorin would kill him and Frerin would take care of the rest.

He worked extra hard to earn money, secretly buying land that he placed his people on. They happily worked on digging and cutting into stone until Thorin couldn't hide it any longer. He told Dis of Thorin's Hall, a proper place for her to wed and to have a family in. Suddenly Dis could sing again. The hall was beautiful with carvings of their people and their story upon the walls. For Thorin the symphony was on its way. The orchestra was gathering and tuning their instruments and he could heart it. It promised so many things.

When Fili was born long forgotten sounds came crashing back. Praise and congratulations, cheers of happiness and pride echoed in his Hall and the orchestra began to play once more.

He taught Fili many things but with a great deal more patience than he had with his own brother. He watched him learn how to sit up, basked in every smile, nearly cried when he saw the boy taking shaky, wobbling steps. When Fili spoke it was to him and he did cry, having the honor of hearing his beloved nephew's first words. Sooner than he would like it, Fili was running around, playing hide and seek. He sat on his father's lap reading to the older dwarf instead of the other way around. Then the boy was told he would be having a sibling soon. The room went quiet. Fili on his father's knee narrowed his blue eyes and Thorin smiled. He knew full well what was about to happen and it took an invisible weight off of his heart. Fili was more like his uncle than others would say. He badgered every adult involved with the creation of the nursery. He asked his mother every day if the baby was coming. He became such a nuisance to his parents that he was plopped down onto Thorin's lap and Thorin suddenly could relate to Fundin as Fili threw his tantrums and made some of Thorin's hairs white.

When Kili was born it was Thorin and Frerin all over again. Fili was a protective force and a loving older brother that wouldn't suffer the stupidity of adults when it came to his brother's care. Dwalin laughed over it all. Thorin laughed at Dwalin's expression when they witnessed a child teasing Kili for liking the bow, only elves liked bows, and Fili knocked the kid's teeth out.

Fili and Kili both enjoyed the fiddle much to Thorin's delight and they would play with him and their mother.

Everything was well again until Dis' husband died. The silence came back, hollowing out Dis and her sons. Thorin did not know how to help but he tried. He kept the children close to him singing "Misty Mountains" softly to calm their cries. When they slept he would go to his sister's room and sit beside her bed and talk. Once again it was a golden light that brightened the days. Fili pulled himself out of the devastation first. Then worked on Kili before they both pushed and pulled, nurtured and tended their mother's shattered soul. The two were beautiful birds of lore singing out until the gods heard them and lent a healing hand, they continued to sing and they continued to brighten everything as the years went on.

Gimli was born to the family and the two brothers latched onto their distant cousin like Thorin and Frerin did to Dis. The three were inseparable beyond classes and sleep. It helped Dis and Thorin heal and always the song was played of peace.

When Thorin went to reclaim Erebor, Dis had wanted to protest but she knew it had to be done. Her sons, it was their duty to go with him. Thorin had Dis choose something of each of theirs in case they did not return, something she could remember them by. It was quiet when she did. It was silent when they left, they had no idea what would be the outcome only a hope and none of them could foresee the silence that Dis lived in as she watched them ride away, cresting over the hill.

For Thorin it was much the same. The adventure was too quiet for him and at the end when he witnessed his beloved nephews fall all fell into silence once more. All happiness and life missing from his being. He made his amends with the hobbit he came to call friend. As he closed his eyes for the last time he dreaded that quiet that was worse than winter's snow.

A tender music suddenly played in the distance, pulling him closer from the black to light. Warm arms wrapped around him, a gentle kiss to his brow. He ventured the risk of opening his eyes to see a tall woman with such beauty. Flowers grew in her hair as if it was an earthen garden and her body wrapped in a green dress. She welcomed him home, gently pushing a hand to his back towards a towering man with dark skin and darker hair. He smiled and ran a huge hand over Thorin's head before giving his own greeting. He ushered Thorin through the light and into a large hall where he was nearly knocked over by three overly excited bodies. They struggled with each other arguing who got to have his attention first. The two heavenly beings laughed with the fondness of parents as a woman pushed the three boys to the side and hugged Thorin. 

Thorin knew that embrace from his first memories, his mother. He hugged back looking over her should to Fili and Kili who were squabbling with Frerin. Frerin had Kili in an impressive head lock while point a finger at Fili and yelling at him to respect his elders.

Thorin pulled back from his mother and looked up at the two gods; Yavanna and Mahal. He could hear their music, the same music of his childhood but it was missing Dis' drum. All was well and when Dis was to come he would the there to greet her. He would make sure to be the first to greet her because she was his precious little sister and no one was going to take that from him, though he did have to share that right with Frerin.


End file.
